


Stones Keep Rolling

by pirl



Series: Stones Keep Rolling [1]
Category: As the World Turns
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirl/pseuds/pirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>AU based on cannon</i> -- Noah said he'd wait for Luke when he left for L.A., but after a while reality set in and he chose to cut all ties to Oakdale. Eight years have since passed, and a death in the Snyder family brings Noah back to Oakdale. What he finds on his return is not what he expected at all. But then again, Noah never expected what his life had become, either.</p><p>Created for Nuke BigBang 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stones Keep Rolling

The murmur of voices melded and buzzed into an unrecognizable hum in the small room. Once in a while a voice would cut through the din to offer condolences and platitudes, maybe even a hand would be placed on his shoulder, which would feel too hot on his already prickly skin. He wanted to tell them all to go to hell, to take their bullshit words and save them for someone who would play the part of the mournful son. They came dressed in their expensive suits and designer shoes, which screamed of being so out of place in a small Midwest town like Oakdale. The flowers they spent small fortunes on to feel better about themselves burned his nose with their sickly sweet scents.

On his left sat his sister Natalie, who'd driven down from Madison two days ago and was now sleeping in her old room at the farmhouse. On his right was Faith, who had flown in from Denver with her fiancé last night. She'd told Luke that they had decided to stay at the Lakeview to give him some privacy. Luke knew it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the growing rift in their relationship. It was yet another failure on his part, not wanting to see the writing Faith had so plainly written on the wall that Lily was cheating yet again. Now here they were, over a year since that awful fight, coldly sitting side by side at the wake for their mother while another family somewhere in New York was burying their father. Husband. Philanderer.

"Fuck him, too," Luke thought.

The accident that had killed his mother had also killed her lover, Leonard Dorset, who also happened to be her business partner. They had told everyone they were going on a trip to Atlanta for a conference, but it wasn’t until their car had spun off the road in Vail that the truth was finally, undeniably, exposed. Luke had been there when the highway patrol had called Holden, who staunchly argued with them, insisting they were mistaken because his wife was Georgia. Watching Holden endure the betrayal of their marriage as well as the loss of his long-time love was harder for Luke to deal with than the actual death of his mother. There had been a lot of closed doors and forced smiles in the house the past few days.

Focusing on the coffee straw he'd been systematically rending in his hands for the past two hours, Luke once again thought longingly of packing his bags and just getting the hell out of there. Maybe somewhere more exotic this time, like India or Singapore. Somewhere he didn’t speak the language and could get lost for good. His mind was wrapped up in silks and spices when his sister suddenly gasped next to him.

"Oh my God."

He looked up to see her staring behind him, disbelief on her face.

"Faith, wha-?" He turned around and there he was in the back of the room, standing in the doorway.

Noah.

The lead weight that had been sitting in his stomach all day was now joined with a cold burning in his chest. The perfumed air filled his mouth as he sucked in a breath.

Noah.

Luke watched as the ghost from his past gazed around the room, his eyes lingered on the casket for a moment when Holden spotted him on his return from "getting some air," before his gaze would have landed on Luke's own incredulous face.

"Noah? Noah, is that you? How are you, son?!"

Noah turned around and was enveloped in one of Holden Snyder’s trademark bear hugs. Luke watched as heads started to turn their way, all probably wondering who was being so discourteously loud at such a solemn affair. Now he mused that they were probably wondering the identity of the tall, handsome stranger in the dark suit who was talking to Holden. Very tall. And lean. Leaner than Luke had remembered. Had he always been that thin? And so broad-shouldered? And when did he start wearing glasses?

"Good lord, how long's it been?"

Luke saw Noah wince. "Eight years, sir."

"I can hardly believe it's been so long." Holden stared into Noah's face for moment while his hand still grasped the other man’s shoulder tight, worrying the fabric he found there. Sadness darkened his face for a moment before he continued. "Well, welcome back. I'm so touched you could make it. And you should know by now that you can call me Holden."

Noah smiled and lowered his head while he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yes, of course. Holden."

The two of them exchanged a few more words, but Luke wasn't able to hear what they were saying over the new wave of hushed condolences Natalie was now receiving from her old school friends. Instead, Luke watched as his father clenched his hand one more time before finally releasing Noah's arm. He saw as Noah gestured toward the casket and shook his head ever so slightly. His vision narrowed as if he were wearing blinders and all he could focus on was his ex-boyfriend talking to his dad and looking like he'd just left Oakdale only seconds ago.

Luke's bones shook as every scrap of anger, frustration, fear, and desperation he had felt the past eight years of his life erupted and struck him like an avalanche. He couldn't explain it. A chill ran down his spine and his necktie made him choke for air. He tore his eyes off Noah and before his sisters or anyone could utter a word, he ran out of the parlor like he had Death on his heels.

He exited through a side door, ran down a hallway and ended up outside at a delivery dock. He bent over, pulling at his tie to loosen it before he braced himself on his knees. Feeling his legs liquefy, he gave in and sat heavily on the cold, concrete curb. Luke shrugged out of his sport coat, feeling the cool spring air immediately caress his damp shirt. He suppressed a shiver as he forced himself to take deep breaths with his nose and exhale through his clenched teeth.

A few minutes passed and Luke started to feel his body right itself to normal again. "Whatever normal is these days," he chided himself. Normal was Oakdale. Normal was living alone at the farm. Normal was using that as an excuse to keep to himself. Normal was to maintain the status quo and prevent the boat from rocking. Normal was to hide his heart in a place where no one could hurt it again.

Wrong.

Luke thought of his mother and felt his betraying heart still beating away in his chest as if nothing had changed. But everything had once again changed, and continued to change with every shivery breath he took. So he took another.

And another.

>>>>

Noah saw movement from the corner of his eye. Blond. Grey suit. Pushing through mourners to exit out a side door.

"Excuse me, Holden. But I'd like to pay my respects." He gestured toward the casket.

"Of course. It's good to see you, Noah."

"You too." He found himself in another hug before he could make his own way toward the front of the room. Quiet tears and sniffles persisted around him while guilt and sadness threatened to overwhelm him as he approached Lily's casket. Reaching her side, he gripped the edge of the padded satin opening and took in her features for the last time. More of a mother figure than anyone else in had been in his life, seeing Lily like this created a deep sense of longing in him, a longing which had always been with him since he was a child. He pleaded with her in his mind. "Forgive me."

Head still bowed, Noah turned and exited the room in pursuit of the man in the grey suit.

He found Luke quite easily, sitting outside the back door of the funeral home. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind him, announcing his presence before he could do it himself.

Luke started, whipping his head around to see who had discovered him. A multitude of emotions ran across his face, but only one stood out in Noah's eye. Defeat.

Luke smirked then, shaking his head in disbelief. He let his head hang for a second before turning around again, facing away from Noah. Waiting a beat, Noah moved to sit next to him on the curb.

"You look good," was the first thing out of Luke's mouth.

"You don't," Noah countered sincerely.

"Yeah, well. Had a rough couple days."

Noah nodded, not quite knowing how to continue, but Luke saved him the trouble.

"What the fuck, Mayer?"

Noah had hoped he'd have a bit more time before dealing with this. He knew it was coming, but now that it was here he briefly regretted his choice in coming after all.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? That's good."

"Yeah, well, you could've called or written or whatever, too. If memory serves me right you had my info for a while after I left."

"Yeah, well…"

They sat in silence for a minute more, listening to the distant traffic noises.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

Luke nodded.

"Aside from current circumstances, how are you otherwise."

"Peachy," Luke snapped.

Noah didn't know what to say. Desperate to keep a conversation going but very aware of the flippant hostility come from his ex, he just grasped for a topic. "You, ah, you still working for Grimaldi Shipping?"

"Nope." Luke seemed content with such a short answer, but he continued after glancing at Noah and seeing something in his face that made him go on. "After Damian's last disappearing act he stayed gone for good. Plane crash. Good riddance, I say. We dissolved the company after that."

"Oh," Noah said, not at all sad that Damian Grimaldi had left this mortal coil once and for all. "Ever go back to writing?"

Luke laughed. "God, no. That was the brainless dream of a naïve boy." Scorn dripped from Luke's mouth, it was a sound that was discordant to Noah's ears.

"It's too bad, you were really good."

"Yeah, whatever." Luke picked up a pebble from the curb and threw it hard toward the wall across the alley from them. "So, you slumming here for a while or are you jetting out of here as soon as the dirt hits the casket?"

Before Noah could object to Luke's glib retort, Natalie's voice called out from the door behind them.

"There you are! Luke, Dad's been looking for you."

"Saved by the widower. So I guess I won't see you around. It's been real, Noah." The nastiness of his tone left Noah dumbstruck. Luke got up and left, avoiding looking at Noah's incredulous face as he made his way back inside. Noah could do nothing but sit there wondering who it was he just had a conversation with.

>>>>

Stepping into Java was like stepping into a time machine for Noah. Incredibly, it still existed almost exactly as it did when he worked there--save for the new tables and a different paint job. It stood as a testament to the fact that no matter what happened to society and the changes OF time, people will still want a place to get a good cup of joe.

He watched as the young barista poured his simple cup of coffee, also noting that the uniform hadn't changed much either. He suppressed the urge to ask the girl if Jeff still worked there and instead took his mug to a table against the wall and shrugged out of his light spring jacket. It might have been April, but the chilly morning was already being replaced with weather that was more on par with June's balmy clime, making Noah thankful that he packed a couple t-shirts.

He sipped his coffee while browsing through e-mails on his phone. He saw nothing that needed his direct input but decided to fire off a message telling Brett that he'd be back sooner rather than later. The encounter with Luke at the funeral home was the proverbial nail in the coffin in his decision to come back to Oakdale and try to patch things up. It was an obvious dead end, and the sooner he got back home the better.

Focused on typing his e-mail, Noah didn't notice the figure looming over his table until they pulled out the chair to sit down.

"Look, before you tell me to go to hell, please let me apologize for yesterday. I kinda got all drama queen and lashed out."

It was Luke. Noah tilted his head and contemplated the hangdog expression on the other man's face. He was definitely sincere as well as embarrassed. But he was holding back, too. Eight years didn’t erase the time they’d spent together and Noah could still read Luke like a book. Sentiment got the better of him and he nodded warmly back.

"Accepted, though I think you have a pretty good excuse for acting a bit eccentric."

Luke shrugged as he sat down across from Noah and placed his own mug on the dark wood table. "Yeah. My mom’s death’s has been difficult to deal with."

"I was talking about you being a Snyder," Noah deadpanned.

Luke narrowed his gaze at Noah for a moment before bursting out in laughter. And with that the tension had been eased. The light that had been missing in Luke's eyes was there, if only a spark. Noah hoped it was at least in part because of him.

Their laughter died out and Noah offered his condolences once again. "Honestly though, I really am sorry about Lily. How’s your family holding up?"

"I think most everyone is still dealing with the fact she’s actually gone. Ethan and Natalie are pretty broken up, but Faith is just so angry, and my dad is… I don’t know what he is." Luke paused, absent-mindedly tracing the lip of his coffee mug with his finger. "I’m sure you’ve already heard through the Oakdale Gossip Network that she’d been cheating on my dad. Who knows for how long? Faith’s pretty adamant that it'd been over a year, but I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anymore. They’re both dead."

"Luke-" Noah started, hearing bitterness in Luke's words and--not wishing for a repeat performance from yesterday--wanted to steer him into a different direction. But Luke beat him to it.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to get all bitchy again. I'm still trying to deal, I guess, and sometimes it really pisses me off when I start to dwell on it all."

Noah nodded, hoping his look conveyed enough sympathy.

"Sure I’m sad. I mean, she was my mom. Nothing's going to change that. But then I start thinking about the lies she kept and the people she was stringing along. She took us for granted again, and that makes me angrier than anything. This fucking family…" Luke shook his head. "I’m so tired of thinking about my messed up family. So tell me about you. What have you been up all this time? Are you a super Hollywood director and everything?"

It was as if Luke had taken off one mask and traded it for another. Noah decided to just go with it, because confronting or challenging Luke was not something he wanted to deal with right now. So Noah ducked his head, chuckled lightly, and answered Luke's question. "Not quite. More of a producer these days."

"Producer? That sounds pretty impressive." Luke smiled. "What exactly do you produce?"

Noah smiled in return. "My partner Brett and I started a production company that helps recent grads and really small independent filmmakers get a leg up in the industry. There are a lot of film students out there just flailing when they graduate and we help them find their voice. We help them with getting grants, finding spaces and locations, getting permits, the whole gamut. It’s been a lot of work, but I love it. We’re expanding the company actually, so things are going really well."

"That sounds amazing, Noah." The words were said but there wasn't an ounce of sincerity behind it. Luke wouldn’t look up from his mug and sneered when he asked, "So how did you and Brett meet?"

"Bathroom of a gay bar." Noah nonchalantly threw out, taking a sip of his coffee.

Luke’s head snapped up so fast that Noah nearly choked on his drink. The shock and accusation in his eyes undid Noah. "You should see your face!" he laughed. "I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. After all this time you’re still jealous! Some things never change."

"I’m not—I just…" Luke flustered, not knowing how to recover as his face came very close to matching the color of the deep red polo he was wearing.

Noah put up his hands as if in surrender. "Relax Luke, relax. Brett Kosta's my business partner, stress on the word business. Not to mention that _she_ is totally not my type. She’s practically a Republican."

 

Luke saw a mischievous twinkle in Noah’s eyes that he had forgotten about. Any embarrassment that he might have still felt was shed with that look. It warmed him, feeling the old familiarity between them. Luke wondered how long it had been since he'd had such a light-hearted conversation with anyone, let alone with Noah. His eyes drifted over his ex's face, noting the addition of tiny wrinkles around Noah’s eyes when he smiled, making him look even more distinguished and yet a little tired. The glasses were new, as well as the scar on his chin that poked through the couple days’ growth of beard. And he'd be lying if the lack of a ring on his left hand didn't make Luke’s belly flip just a little.

"When did you start wearing glasses?

"A couple years ago. My doc said it's pretty normal with my history." Noah said a little uncomfortably. Luke just nodded, both of them ignoring the elephant in the room named Reid.

"You’ve changed." Luke said.

"You too." Noah responded, a little sad.

"You’d know more than anyone…" Luke thought, but kept to himself.

They sat in a slightly strained silence before Noah spoke up again. "So what have you been up to? You said Damian’s company is no more?"

Luke sighed, grateful for the change of conversation even if it was about Damian. He leaned forward in his seat, resting heavily on his elbows that were perched on the little café table. "Yeah, not long after you left things got to be too much around here," Noah gave a knowing nod, "so I split. I traveled mostly around Europe, staying a few days or weeks in each city, renting rooms and just… living." Luke shifted in his chair and scratched nervously at his neck, a little uncomfortable with potentially talking with his ex-boyfriend about the number of things the euphemism of "living" encompassed.

"Once Damian got out of prison he caught up with me and started coming down really hard about being irresponsible and that I needed to start acting like the heir of family, blah blah blah." Luke shoved himself back from the table, emotions all of a sudden running higher than they had just a few minutes ago. "So I stayed. I stayed and worked for bio-dad." Luke shook his head as if he was showing disappointment in his decision.

Noah asked, "How long were you there?"

The question snapped Luke back to the present. "Oh, a couple years. I worked mostly in the Naples office, which was a blessing because Damian would only visit once a month, if that. But I was 'doing my duty’ for the company so he lay off for the most part." Luke’s finger quotes held less sarcasm than his voice, which was drenched with disdain. "I still should’ve gotten out of there sooner…"

Luke was picking with his fingernail at his faded, black jeans, like he was working to get out a stain that no one else could see. "A few months later Damian goes missing and there’s talk of kidnap, vendetta, whatever. A while later they found the wreckage of his plane in the Alps and all hell broke loose. I decided to use my authority in the company and dissolve it, to just erase it from the map. Sold most of it off to NGOs and the like for humanitarian relief, etcetera. I got a lot of shit for it from the shareholders, but they still made a profit so they didn’t bitch that much, and to be honest, I didn't care. Besides, the company was getting too much good press in the dissolution that no one wanted to look like the bad guy." Luke shrugged. "I wanted to do good things with his money, like we once did with my foundation." Luke gave Noah a regretful look. "It was a lot easier back then."

"A lot of stuff was."

Luke smiled sadly at that. "Still, it was nice to finally erase that part of me. Erase Damian. Erase Italy…" Luke's eyes clouded and Noah watched as all the light in Luke's face just faded out. Before Noah could ask if everything was alright the switch flipped and Luke was back to normal.

"So," He took a quick drink from his now cool coffee, "Brett's your business partner. Do you have anyone else in your life?"

"I caught up with Ameera when I made it to LA."

This wasn't the information that Luke was fishing for but it still surprised him. "You're kidding! How is she?"

"Married with kids. Her husband runs a little tea shop slash hot dog stand and she does refugee outreach."

"I'm sorry, did you say tea and hot dogs?"

"Yeah! He moved here from Indonesia as a kid and his parents did everything they could to sort of acclimate him and his brother and sisters to the American culture. Pretty soon they were into music, movies, everything. But he really fell in love with the food, especially hot dogs. So when he took over his dad's tea shop a few years back he started to put his own spin on things. It's pretty successful actually! Only in L.A., I guess. Their girls are adorable. Here," Noah picked up his phone from the table where he'd left it earlier and after a few taps on the screen he opened a photo of two little girls with long, raven hair and dimples for days. "The eldest is Nadia , she's seven, and Kade's five." Luke leaned over to get a better look, taking in the toothy smiles and sundresses. "I've got one of the whole family somewhere…"

Luke watched as Noah flicked through his photos when he saw a few of Noah and some guy. They were arm in arm in front of a waterfall, looking sunburned and happy, in the next photo it was the two of them on a beach, and another after that had them at a candlelit table. From what Luke could glimpse the other person was a tall, dark-haired, all smiles and obviously very important to Noah. "Important enough to have someone take their picture with his own phone." Luke thought sadly.

"Is that L.A.?" Luke asked, hoping he sounded casual and interested more in the location than in the other man in the picture.

Noah paused on a shot of the guy in question sitting poolside, holding up a drink with an umbrella in it and giving the camera a brilliantly cheesy smile.

"No, that's Cabo San Lucas from a while ago." Noah said off-handedly still focused on finding a specific photo. The guy was handsome. Okay, he was gorgeous, Luke admitted. He had a great body, a great tan and a smile that could power most of California. And from the looks of it he was friendly and fun as well.

Luke felt such a sharp pang of jealousy hit him just then. Noah in Cabo. With his gorgeous boyfriend. It shamefully burned ice-cold in his stomach. "You're ridiculous," Luke tried to chide himself. "You have no right to be jealous or possessive. Especially since he called you out on it earlier. It's been eight years, for crying out loud! You've had your own share of relationships. Some that you wish you could forget…"

"Here it is!" Noah angled the phone closer to Luke. "That's Aggie," Noah indicated the shorter man with brilliant eyes standing next to Ameera and their girls.

"Aggie?"

"Agung, actually, but he goes by Aggie." Noah shuffled through a couple more photos taken from what looked like an afternoon picnic, with the girls on swings, Aggie grilling funky looking hot dogs and Ameera looking happier than he'd ever seen her. "They met at their mosque. Ameera told me the whole story about how he kept bugging her to come visit his store but she was so insulted because she thought that all hot dogs were made with pork, which, you know, is not allowed in the Muslim faith. So one day he comes to her office with all sorts of these gourmet hot dogs made of turkey, chicken, tofu, you name it. He fed the whole office that day! It's all kind of ridiculous, but it worked I guess."

"A love story of encased meats." Luke joked, which busted Noah up.

"Oh God, that's just wrong."

"Hey, you told me the story."

"Fair enough." Noah rumbled one last laugh in his chest before treading into unknown territory. "So, are you seeing anyone?"

Luke's instinct was to lie, to fabricate an amazing Adonis to counter Mr. Tall and Tan, but it would all fall apart as soon as Noah asked anyone in Oakdale about whomever he conjured. He decided to go with the sad truth.

"Nah. Dating pool is kind of thin in Oakdale these days."

"Oh! I didn't know you were living here."

"Yeah, out at the farm. Gotta look after things now that Emma's gone."

Noah paled and nearly dropped his mug. "What?!"

"Oh, God, no! I meant that Emma's living over at Lucinda's now! Shit, I'm sorry." Luke's hands were up like he was trying to steady an unnerved animal. "Yeah, Emma's been living with Grandmother for a while now. Lucinda fell a few years ago and broke her elbow, and John was so busy with the hospital that Gram went over there to help her out. It worked out so well that she just stayed."

"You're kidding."

"I know, right? I guess after all this time they've finally admitted that they're more than just family and that they're actually friends. Both are doing great and couldn't be happier. Plus it was getting to be too much for her to take care of the place anyway, so I moved in."

Noah looked wistful. "I have a lot of good memories of the farm."

"And some bad."

"True, but mostly good. I gained a family there, so it'll always be a special place for me."

The two of them shared warm smiles, caught up momentarily in reminiscing and keeping the specters from their pasts away from the table. Noah leaned back and crossed his arms, letting one hand rub absent-mindedly up and down his bicep, the action pushed up his shirt sleeve just an inch or two. It was all that was necessary for Luke to get a glimpse of ink which had him totally taken aback.

"Noah! Is that a tattoo?"

"What?" Luke was pointing at his arm. "Oh, yeah." He said rather shyly, pulling up his left shirt sleeve and exposing his bicep. Black script flowed around his arm, peppered with clusters of dots floating above strange looking symbols. "It says 'strength, courage and wisdom' in Arabic."

Luke looked on in awe, tempted to reach out and run his fingers over it. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks." He lowered the sleeve once again, much to Luke's chagrin. "It was the first in my 'get inked, find truth' phase."

"You have others?"

"Uh-huh." He self-consciously ducked his head again. "I, uh, have a lotus flower on my upper back and a Mexican proverb written on my foot."

Luke tried very hard to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. "Wow. That all sounds very, um, worldly?" He cringed at his clumsy words, but Noah just chuckled and bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah. It's kind of a United Nations of sorts. I was going through some stuff a while ago and looking for some answers I guess."

"Did you find them?"

Noah shrugged indifferently. "Still working on it. The tattoo on my ankle says 'las piedras rodando se encuentran,' which means 'the stones keep rolling.'" Luke gave him a confused look. "My friend Javi used to say it to me all the time. 'Tu piedras, Noah! Siempre rodando se encuentran!'" he imitated energetically, smiling and blushing at the memory.

"It means that things are kinda set up in a way that someday these 'stones' might encounter one another, and I always took it as a nicer way to look at fate and destiny. Things are set in motion so that one day they might intertwine later down the road." Noah shrugged. "I don't know, I guess it's become a sort of mantra to me now."

Luke contemplated the words himself, nodding along with Noah's explanation.

"So you know a lot of Spanish then?" Luke asked.

"Oh no, hardly any. My ex-… my friend tried to teach me all the time. I guess you can say that I learned enough to get me in trouble."

"So which is he, ex or friend?" Luke teased, catching Noah's trip-up.

"Uh… both, actually. Javier and I stayed really good friends after we split." Noah's eyes softened, his thoughts tied-up with his ex-boyfriend. "We kinda decided that we didn't want to be out of each other's lives and somehow we've made it work."

Unlike us, Luke thought.

"I wish you could meet him, I think you'd really like each other." Noah offered.

"Where is he now?"

"Somewhere in Asia, I think. He's a fashion photographer so he's traveling around all the time." Luke raised his eyebrows, impressed with Noah's ex's line of work. "It's one of the reasons we split. He travels so much and I, well…" Noah shrugged, "it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry, Noah."

"No, don't be. I'm not. He was—is—someone who still means a lot to me. He was good for me, helped me fix a lot of this." Noah gestured to his head, somewhat dismissively.

Luke frowned, "But what about…" and he stopped himself. There's no way he could ask the rest of that question.

"But what about what?" Noah asked. Luke ducked his head, wishing his fast mouth would wait up for his brain sometimes. His feelings were getting the best of him. Guilt sat in the pit of his stomach and taunted him again. "Luke?"

When he looked up into Noah's eyes again he knew his emotions were written in bold on his face, but he couldn't help it now. He blinked once and lowered his eyes to Noah's chest. "But what about your heart. Did he fix that?"

Noah stilled and stared as anguish and guilt rippled off of Luke in waves. He didn't want to answer the question for some reason. Either way he was certain the answer would hurt Luke. He swallowed thickly and said, "Yes."

Luke nodded softly and hung his head, eyes sparkling with a little extra moisture. "Good."

They sat there quietly for a while. Luke never lifting his head and Noah just staring at him, confused and wishing he knew what to say next. "Luke, I…"

With a quick wipe at his eyes, Luke stood up suddenly. "No. Yeah. Um…" he composed himself in an instant and plastered on a flashy smile that didn't reach his conflicted eyes, "I'm glad we could catch up. We… uh… the family is getting together at the farm tonight. You should come."

Everything in Noah wanted to leave, wanted to get the hell out of Oakdale and run back to what was safe and familiar. But the look in Luke's eyes rooted him in his seat. He wanted to say no and blame it on going back to the office or something, anything. But there he sat, staring into Luke's eyes, ringed wet with sorrow, and said, "Sure, I'll see you there."

And with that, Luke was once again walking away from him.

>>>>

The knock at Noah's door surprised him. Housekeeping had already come while he was at the coffee shop, and he was certain the "Do Not Disturb" sign was still hanging on the doorknob. He buttoned up the rest of his shirt as he made his way to the door. What greeted him on the other side of the peephole was a fish-eye vision straight from one of his noir movies. With a confused grin, he promptly opened the door.

"Mrs. Walsh?"

"It's Walsh-Dixon now, darling, but that's neither here nor there." Lucinda Walsh glided through the door, airs and attitude following her like an entourage into Noah's hotel room. She glanced around the room as if taking stock and after a moment she focused back on Noah, her smile charming yet intimidating. "How are you, my young man? You've been gone for far too long, shame on you!"

"Uh, yeah—I mean, yes it's been a while." He might be older and wiser, but Lucinda still made him incredibly nervous. "I, uh, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Yes, well…" Her eyes darkened and drifted, bumped a bit off balance for a moment before she collected herself again. "No one should ever have to outlive their children."

Lucinda's sadness was almost palpable. It wasn't often that Noah had seen Lucinda's Teflon-tough veneer show any cracks and it made his heart ache for the woman. "May I ask why you're here?"

And in the blink of an eye Dame Lucinda was back in full force. "Yes, yes! Here," she handed him a large envelope from her considerably sized handbag. "You've been bequeathed. Go on my dear boy, open it."

"Be—what?"

"Oh don't be daft! You've been named a beneficiary in Lily's will."

Noah sat down heavily on the bed. "But I—" He stared at the envelope in his hands. "This doesn't make any sense. Why me?"

Lucinda sat in the desk chair opposite Noah. "Because she loved you like a son, darling! You know she never terminated your adoption, don’t you?" She reached out with her manicured hand and swept a lock of hair off his forehead in a tender and motherly manner before cupping his cheek. "She wanted to leave you something, something that will, I don't know, help you in your journey?"

"My journey?"

"Your journey to be an exceptional young man, of course!"

Noah smiled wistfully. "You know, she'd send me a card on my birthday every year. She'd track down my address no matter where I was."

"Oh darling, that doesn't take a lot of effort if you know the right people. And believe me, we Walshes know the right people." She gave him her signature smile and Noah chuckled. "Well?" She motioned to the package in Noah's hands.

He hesitated a moment longer before turning the envelope over in his hands and bending back the metal prongs so he could slip open the flap. He pulled out a rather thick stack of papers and started to read. Not much of it made sense to him until he saw the letters 'WOAK' followed by 'sole proprietor.' Noah's stomach dropped to the floor.

"Um… I…" he gulped and looked pleadingly at Lucinda.

"Yes."

Noah shook his head. "No, I can't! I mean, I don’t know anything about running a TV station."

"Oh nonsense! You run a production company, it's practically the same thing."

Lucinda _had_ been doing her research. "I don't—it's not—"

"Before you put another wrinkle on that darling face of yours just calm down. Sleep on it. It's going to take ages before anything comes of it anyway. Damnable lawyers!" She shook her fist in disgust. "Don't make any decisions yet. The station will continue to function in the meantime without you."

Noah calmed a little at this but his mind was still reeling with the idea of it all. Owning WOAK! The idea of it was unfathomable. He and Brett barely had enough equipment between the two of them to make a proper home movie, let alone shoot, produce and program a TV station. But the possibilities… like the ones given to him and Maddie and Luke when he first started there, he could do the same for others. Fostering students interested in the business of production and running studio, perhaps. He could start up an annex to his production company in Oakdale, maybe work out a partnership with Oakdale U once he learned how to actually manage a television station of course. Possibly rent a place and commute back and forth when he needed. Maybe he and Luke could—

"So… I hear you talked to Luke."

Noah's heart stopped. His runaway thoughts came to a dead stop and his first thought was that Lucinda not only was a savvy businesswoman, but she was a mind reader as well. But one look in her eyes and seeing that knowing twinkle told him the answer: She was just _that_ good.

"Um, yeah. We bumped into each other at Java earlier today. It was nice to see him again." Lucinda arched her eyebrow, proclaiming her knowledge with that simple gesture that she knew it was more than just 'nice.'

"Really," He lied. "I'm glad we could catch up, and I'm happy that he seems…" Noah searched for the right word but couldn't find it, "okay."

"Okay? Okay?! Oh darling, you're as blind as ever."

That pissed Noah off. "Excuse me?"

Lucinda sighed heavily, ignoring Noah's indignation. "Luke is not _okay_. He's miserable! He's locked himself up in that house like a hermit. He's been punishing himself ever since he came back to Oakdale from Italy two years ago."

"Punishing himself?" Noah shook his head, not understanding Lucinda's meaning. "Why? I thought he said he left Europe after dealing with Damian's company and things were fine."

"My dear boy. If you think our Luke was just sightseeing and working for dear old dad on his international jaunt you are deluded. I'm sure he failed to mention that his mother and I had to physically force him into rehab "

Noah was alarmed. "What? When?"

"Oh, not a year after he first left. The boy was drinking himself into kidney failure, so Lily and I teamed up and got him into a clinic in Switzerland. All I have to say is thank God for the Swiss! He cleaned up in no time and he hasn't had a drop since, which we were all grateful for after the whole Sante affair."

"The what?"

Lucinda looked at Noah like he just sprouted antlers. "Sante. Sante! Of course you know about Sante!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Walsh, but I have no idea what Sante is."

"Not a what, a who! Oh dear, I seem to have let the proverbial cat out of the bag now, haven't I?" Lucinda's ring-heavy hand smoothed her hair back as if trying to regain her composure before she continued. "Well, you were bound to hear about him at some point. It's no matter who tells you then, is it?"

Noah just nodded, unsure what the hell was going on but sure in the knowledge that you didn’t interrupt Lucinda Walsh when she was on a roll.

"Sante was Luke's boyfriend—lover, whatever—that he met while in Italy after finishing rehab and going to work for Damian. He was young, naïve and simply head-over-heels in love with Luke. He followed him around like a little lost puppy and Luke lavished in the attention. He bought Sante all sorts of gifts and trinkets and was acting more and more like a Grimaldi than a Snyder, collecting beautiful things and treating them like possessions." Lucinda mouth soured with her words.

"We had no idea what was going on other than what we could glean from his emails and the, what is it called, Facebook?"

Noah nodded his head, eager for her to continue.

"Yes, well, Facebook. He sounded purely incandescent, talking about trips to Venice and Monaco, sailing around the Mediterranean. They were inseparable. But then the bubble burst, and the phone calls stopped and the emails were rushed and flimsy, not at all in Luke's style. After threatening to come out there myself to find out what was going on, our Luke confessed to me the whole dirty truth."

Lucinda pinned Noah with her gaze. "Sante was an addict. Drugs, alcohol, you name it, that boy did it. Luke didn't know at first since he was blinded by the attention that young man gave him. Eventually the monster reared its ugly head and at first Luke tried to ignore it, live with it. But as we all know that the 800-pound gorilla in the room eventually ceases to be disregarded. Luke tried desperately to help Sante, even got him a space at the same clinic Luke went to, but he refused. One thing led to another and Luke eventually gave him an ultimatum, either Sante would enter rehab or Luke would kick him out. So… Sante left. Moved out. And about two weeks later Luke came home to find the young man dead in their bedroom. The poor boy committed suicide."

Lucinda rubbed at her eyes, looking exceedingly tired all of a sudden. "There was something dark in that young man that ate him alive, and it almost took Luke with him. We tried to get him to come back to Oakdale, but he refused to do so, saying that he needed to completely dissolve Grimaldi Shipping, tie up loose ends. His brother, lovely, darling Aaron, went out there to keep an eye on him and persuade him to come home. Obviously he was successful." She gestured in the general direction of the farm. "But I'm afraid he left a part of himself back in Italy. He's not our Luke."

Noah sat there stunned. _Oh, Luke…_ His heart ached for him. "I don't…" He shook his head, his mind unable to process all that Lucinda had told him quite yet.

"Noah, I'm an old woman, and that gives me freedom to say things that younger people aren't usually allowed to. You came here for a reason, and it wasn't just to pay your respects to my daughter. You came here for Luke. You came here to see if there was still hope for the two of you."

Noah's face warmed at the bold accusation, and for being called out for the ulterior motive he hadn't owned up to, even to himself, quite yet.

Lucinda stood up, collecting her handbag and made her way toward the door. "Noah, I don't want to leave this world without knowing my grandson is happy once again. And I know you're the man for the job. Go to him. Fix this. You know the two of you belong together, so fight for it!"

>>>>

By the time Noah pulled into the driveway at the farm it was rather late. So late, in fact, that there were only two cars left in front of the house. But the light was still on in the kitchen so he cut the engine and got out. After Lucinda had left him that afternoon he just sat there on the edge of the bed thinking and thinking until his room had gotten dark. After that he sat some more until finally he was fed up with thinking and needed to 'do' instead.

Waves of memories crashed against Noah as he made his way toward the farmhouse porch, threatening to drown him in their wonder and sorrow. He steeled himself before knocking on the door and a moment later, the warmth of Emma's kitchen wrapped around him like a favorite blanket. The wide eyes of a young woman stared at him from within.

"Noah! Oh my God! How are you?" Arms wrapped around his neck and soft curls of light brown hair tickled his nose.

"Natalie?" He stood back and took in another sight from his past. "Wow, you've grown up!"

Placing a hand on her hip she took a step back, inviting him into the kitchen. "Duh! It's been forever since I last saw you."

"I know, but…" he paused, his eyes still bugging out of his head at the sight of Luke's little sister, "I'm sorry, I just feel _really_ old all of a sudden. You're still this tall in my head." He held his hand about parallel with his hip, which got him a swat on the shoulder from her.

"As if! Give me some credit. I was at least a couple inches taller than that," she teased back.

They stood there by the doorway smiling at each other for a moment longer before the solemnity of the reason they had all been reunited breathed back into the air around them.

"Nat, I'm really sorry about your mom," Noah offered.

Natalie bit on her lips and nodded. Noah could now see the redness that tinged the whites of her eyes and the pain of her loss written plain as day in them. "Thanks. I…" she breathed out sharply to steady herself, her composure faltering slightly. "Thanks." She grabbed Noah's hand and held it for a moment before motioning over to the table at the other occupant he hadn't realized was there. "You should've come earlier. You could've seen everyone."

Noah looked over at the table and saw a bored looking dark-haired teenager tapping listlessly at a game pad. For the second time that night Noah was humbled with passage of time. "Ethan?"

Familiar brown eyes looked up at him.

"Hey Ethan, this is Noah. Do you remember him?" Natalie offered.

Ethan's face scrunched up slightly, trying to access the memory of a young boy. "Not really?"

"He was Luke's boyfriend when you were little."

Ethan, definitely a product of Holden's rearing, stood up and offered his hand to Noah. "Hi." He gave Noah a firm handshake in contrast to his slim build.

"Your brother and I used to bribe you with popsicles to go to bed early."

Ethan's head tilted slightly, staring hard at Noah. "Yeah… "A smile crept onto his somber face, "and I would get in trouble with mom…"

Noah picked up the story. "Because you'd fall asleep and it melted on your sheets." The two chuckled softly at the memory.

"Wow, that was, like, forever ago!"

"No kidding," said Noah. "It's good to see you all grown up."

Ethan just shrugged. Typical teenager, Noah thought. "Um… I'd love to stay and catch up, but—"

Natalie beat him to the punch. "He went for a walk. He's probably down by the pond."

"Thanks." Noah ignored the knowing smirk on Natalie's face, turned on his heel and made his way to the Snyder pond as fast as his legs would take him.

>>>>

The warmth of the day had quickly been leeched by the cool, crisp night air. Not a cloud in the sky impeded Noah's moonlit trek down the familiar path toward the pond. He zipped his jacket all the way to his neck, wishing he had brought his gloves. Instead he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and trudged along the overgrown trail.

As the pond came into view Noah scanned the banks for Luke. He soon spotted him sitting on the edge of the short dock, hunched over with his back to Noah. He approached Luke slowly, keeping his footfall heavy so he didn't surprise the other man. He was just feet away when he finally saw the half empty bottle in Luke's hand glinting in the moonlight like the blade of a knife. Grief ached in his stomach, closely followed by fear. There seemed to be so much that Luke wasn't telling him.

"Luke?" Noah said gently. There was no response so he placed his hand on Luke's shoulder.

Luke shot up, spinning around wildly and nearly spraying them both with vodka.

"Whoa! Hey, it's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Noah!" Luke's hand was clutching at his own chest as if to calm his racing heart.

"Sorry! I tried not to scare you but you didn't hear me."

"Yeah. Fine. Wasn't going to use those last few years of my life anyway."

"Luke…" Noah reached his hand out toward the bottle Luke still held, silently asking the other man to hand it to him. Without hesitation he handed it over, looking like he expected Noah to put on a display of pouring out the contents. Instead, Noah leaned his head back and took a giant swig.

The burn of alcohol felt good in Noah's throat and the taste was warm and sweet on his tongue. He looked at the label but didn't recognize the brand.

"Smooth." Feeling reckless all of a sudden, he took another pull.

Luke shook his head, his face bright with astonishment of Noah's actions. "I wouldn't know."

Noah shot him a confused look.

"Haven't had a drop." Luke said matter-of-factly.

Noah shook his head and looked heavenward at the stars, laughing slightly in disbelief.

But Luke persisted. "Honest. I bought it tonight with full intention of getting so shit-faced I forgot who I was. But then I came out here and…" he shrugged, "I couldn't."

"But—" Noah examined the half empty bottle again.

"I've been sitting here trying to psyche myself into either drinking it or pouring it all out, but all I can do is pour a little out at a time." He gave a frustrated laugh. "Fucking ridiculous."

He looked dejected, Noah thought. There was no pride or joy in him at all. The façade had been left behind and what stood in front of Noah was the shell of a man he once knew. Luke pushed back at his unruly hair and shifted his stance in unease like he knew he was under scrutiny. He was wearing the same dark red polo from earlier that day, apparently ignoring the chilly weather around him. His jeans were soaked just under his knees to his bare feet from hanging them off the dock into the pond.

"Luke, where are your shoes?"

Luke shrugged and threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the pond. Noah couldn't see them on the dock anywhere, but about fifteen feet from the edge he saw what could be a sneaker bobbing in the dark, cool water.

"You threw your shoes in the pond?"

"You threw your shoes in the pond?" Luke mocked under his breath. "What the hell difference does it make?"

"Why?"

"Why not? Served their purpose. Didn't like 'em anyway. Are we really talking about shoes, Noah?" His tone was getting laced with more bitterness with each second that passed. "Why are you here?"

"You invited me."

"Oh come on! Everybody's gone already! If you really gave a shit you'd have been here earlier."

Noah flinched. "Why are you being so damn hostile?"

"You left, Noah! You disappeared!" Luke shouted so loud Noah swore he could hear it echo through the trees. "What the fuck?! I mean, goddammit Noah, I know I messed up and that we weren't… but everyone else? Did you have to cut them off too?"

If Luke wanted a fight, Noah wouldn’t disappoint. "Jesus, Luke, it's called Google! It's not like I changed names or anything. Two seconds on the internet and you'd find me no problem."

"That's not the point!" Luke closed the distance between them, his voice a growl. "The point is that I shouldn't have to."

Luke's look was challenging, daring Noah to deny he was wrong. He huffed out a couple of irritated breaths before continuing.

"The signals were loud and clear that you didn't want to be bothered. In fact, why are you still here? Just go already." He shoved Noah's shoulder. "Go back to L.A. Go before we stain your precious existence. So sorry my fucked up life doesn't fit into your slick Hollywood world."

"Fuck you, Luke!" Noah spat out, throwing the bottle he still held to the ground near Luke's feet. "You have no idea what I went through out there!" Luke sneered at him, rolling his eyes, but Noah ignored it. "I was lost in L.A, Luke! So fucking lost. Everything I did and everything I saw reminded me of you and Oakdale and everything I had run away from. Everything was wrong and I couldn't cope to save my own ass. No matter how many times I tried to get my head straight I just fell apart again. My goddamn advisor almost suspended me from our shoot because I'd gotten into fight with the Assistant Director. I gave him a bloody nose, accusing him of sabotaging my project and all sorts of other crazy shit. I’m lucky he didn’t press charges."

Luke's earlier hostility began to visibly lessen, but he seemed to remain unmoved as Noah went on.

"But what was I going to tell my advisor? What part of my life do I share with him to make him understand what was going on? The part where I was working two jobs to make ends meet and sleeping only a couple hours a night? Or the part where I was closing the clubs and throwing myself at anyone who'd keep the drinks coming because my head was so fucked up over my ex-boyfriend and the ghosts of Oakdale past that I couldn't stand to be alone in my apartment? What about how my heart stopped every time I saw someone that even remotely looked like you on the street, thinking that after all this time you’d finally come to L.A.? Wait, this is the best one, how about when Ameera had to pick my wasted ass up from the hospital when I mistook 'hey let's go back to my place' with 'I'm going to beat the living shit out of you in the parking lot and steal everything you've got?' That's a good one."

Luke looked confused and humbled by Noah's story. "I-I don't know what to say…"

"Whatever. Fine. Fuck it. I moved on. Therapy first, of course. That was part of the deal I made with my advisor. So then I put on the mask and pretended that everything was just fine. Everything’s fine. Just don’t ask me for details. I'm coping. So don’t tell me about how I should be finally finding peace doing what I love. Living the dream. The dream of some star-struck dipshit who couldn’t tell when reality started to become fantasy."

Noah sat down heavily on the grass, boneless and without the grace his long body usually possessed. "God, I was _so_ ashamed. I was failing at everything I'd dreamed of, of getting what I wanted, or so I thought. I blamed you, Reid, the accident, my dad, everything on why nothing was working out the way I'd planned. I blamed everyone except who I should've. Myself." Noah felt Luke sit down next to him on the ground, his thigh brushing up ever so slightly against his own. The next thing he felt was a hand rubbing soothing, encouraging circles on his back. Noah closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the heat Luke's hand generated, chasing the cold away. He sucked in a deep breath and continued.

"I decided to cut all ties to Oakdale because I thought that as long as you and everything else from my past were still in my life that I'd never be able to focus on my future. My therapist didn't approve, he said it was avoidance or whatever. But after a while, a long while, everything started to get better." A sad, small smile appeared on Noah's face.

"Dr. Gant and Ameera were pretty much the only people in my life that kept me from falling down again. They kicked my sorry ass into shape and helped me finally grow a set. I was finally brave enough to make that leap away from L.A. and the industry. I met Brett soon after and we almost immediately moved to Detroit. But this time I wasn't running away, I was moving on."

"It was scary at first, but thrilling to start walking a path that I hadn’t even thought of going down. It was one of the hardest things to admit to myself that I really didn’t like what I thought I’d wanted to do all my life. But I found purpose finally, and it was exactly what I needed."

"It was crazy back then, Detroit was such an artist's enclave and it had an almost guerilla feel to it. People from all over were carving out niches for themselves there, making something beautiful and meaningful. That's where I met Javi—he was the final piece of the puzzle. And things were really, really great for a while. But things change. People change… or not. And…" Noah let the rest of the sentence drift off, apprehensive to finish it.

But Luke was always persistent. "And?"

Noah sucked in a deep breath. "I-I couldn't give him what he wanted."

"What was that?" Luke whispered.

Noah stopped and started a half dozen times before he was able to continue. It was now or never, his brain told him. After all this time, after everything they'd been through could it still be possible that they could make this work? Noah was so close to his happy ending that when he finally spoke his voice trembled with so much overwhelming emotion that it made him almost nauseous.

"I couldn't give him the part of my heart that belongs to you."

Luke didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Instead he wrapped his arms around Noah's shoulders and clung to him like a life preserver, burying his face in the other man's neck and breathing in deep.

Unsure of exactly what Luke's gesture meant, Noah hazarded to perceive it as a good sign. They rocked back and forth for a while like that, in each other's arms and breathing in the cool, damp night air. Soon enough, though, Noah needed to ask Luke a question that was sure to cause him pain, but it needed to be done. "For my own sake and for Luke's," he thought.

"Luke, tell me about Sante." The other man stilled and went rigid. Noah gently pulled back, taking in Luke's shocked and scared face. "Lucinda told me."

Luke let go of Noah and brought his arms in front of himself to hug his knees into his chest, making himself smaller and feel less vulnerable. He was quiet for a while, staring off to the pond before he finally spoke.

"He was beautiful." Luke's eyes were shining in the moonlight of the memory. "He was so beautiful-- body and soul. After I'd gone through so much with rehab and everything with you and Reid, I simply couldn't help it. I found myself captivated by him. He was so effortless, you know? One of those types of people who could just go with the flow. A true free spirit. He made me laugh, and he loved me with everything he had."

Luke's smile fell. "But I took it all for granted. I guess I figured he was so young that he didn't know what he wanted, and that we were just having fun and he'd see soon enough that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. And I was okay with that. I expected it to happen because I wanted it to happen. I didn't want to get attached. I didn't want to love anyone again."

"What happened was that I didn't take him or our relationship seriously. I was too focused on making sure I was maintaining a distance and keeping myself from getting too caught up that I didn't see him trying to reach out and ask for help. Later, when he was using, he told me about his family and how they ridiculed him and kicked him out when they found out he was gay. A lot of families in Italy are still really conservative and his just threw him out. It explained a lot of his behavior, but I was too busy keeping him at arm's length that I didn't recognize it when I really could've helped him." Luke shook his head in shame.

"He started bringing guys back to the villa, shooting up, having parties… it was out of control and I couldn't take it anymore so he moved out. No, I _kicked_ him out. I tried and tried to get him to go to rehab. I mean, I was even going to go with him, stay nearby so we could do counseling together, whatever he needed to get clean. But he just disappeared. And then…"

Luke choked back a sob, tears now hot and flowing down his face. "He was so pale. And cold. And his mouth… the drugs… I-I shook him," Luke shook his own arms, "I shook him and his eyes just-" he sobbed again, "I couldn't look, Noah. I couldn't look at him lying there, staring at nothing, not breathing. It hurt so much. I couldn't help him, I'd failed, I'd used him like a selfish fucking brat and he was looking at me with those blank eyes and I did nothing-"

Noah seized Luke's arms fiercely and knelt in front of him, "No. Don't think that."

"But-"

"I know you Luke Snyder. I know your heart, I know your soul and I know what you're capable of. You are not to blame for his death."

"Yes I-"

"You are not to blame for his death." Noah shook his body with every word. "You did not kill him, you didn't give him the drugs, you did everything you could to help him and he turned away."

Luke closed his eyes and drove his head into his arms like he was trying to shut out what Noah was saying to him. "You didn't do this, Luke. You're not to blame."

His words were muted in his arms. "It's me, I do it to everyone Noah. Everyone. Don't you see?"

Noah shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

Luke lifted his head up but wouldn't look Noah in the eye. "First it was you. T-then Reid. Then you again." Noah was confused, not knowing where Luke's words were taking him but he kept listening. "And then Damian, but that didn't bother me much. Then Sante. Now my mom--" Another gasp of a sob escaped Luke. "And now you're here again a-and all these feelings just keep coming up and I feel like I'm caught in some cruel joke. Like I'm being taught a lesson about fucking up!" Luke punched his fist into the ground and leaving a deep imprint on the soft, damp earth.

"I feel like I'm drowning, Noah, and I-I want to drown because you're going to leave again and I feel like if one more person leaves me that I'll never be able to breathe again."

"Luke? Luke, look at me." Noah reached for the other man's chin and gently turned it toward himself. Wet lashes looked down, refusing to open. "Luke? Please."

Deep brown eyes, eyes from his past so full of pain and sorrow and guilt looked up into his own, bare and divested of all false facades. It was his Luke looking back at him now.

"A long time ago, you saved me. Do you remember that?" Noah's voice was gentle and full of so much love for the man sitting in front of him. "You saved me from a future of lies and regret that would have destroyed not only the people that I loved, but myself as well. You did that. And now I want to return the favor."

Luke swallowed thickly, hope now sparked deep in those eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we've been given something that a lot of people aren't lucky enough to get. We have second chance, Luke. And I don't care if I'm not supposed to say this or whatever, but I want to try Luke. I want it so bad. I want you in my life and I'm so, so sorry I was so stupid and cut you out of it. I'm so sorry. And I want to make it up to you, I want to do everything I can to make it up to you. I'm sorry if I'm being too bold, or saying too much, but I can't help it. I love you, I've always loved you, I've never stopped loving you." Noah leaned forward and leaned his forehead against Luke's. "Please, Luke. Tell me that we have a chance."

Luke leaned back slightly, sadness spread across his features, infinite and fathomless sadness. "Noah." He lifted his hand and softly caressed Noah's cheek. "Noah." His fingers lowered and grazed across Noah's bottom lip. "Noah." He closed his eyes and Luke leaned in until he felt those tender lips against his own. Noah's hands grabbed at his shoulders, not to pull him in tighter but to keep himself from spinning out of control. They deepened the kiss, breathed the same air and clung to the thread that this could work, that they could work. Familiarity, anticipation and longing fueled them on, relearning the feel of each other, the taste and smell that lingered in the deep recesses of their memories. It was terror and bliss wrapped into a single, simple act.

As they broke apart their faces were flush with possibility. Hands roamed over shoulders and jaws and backs, tiny smiles broke through years of sadness and disappointment. Hope started to grow on the shore of Snyder Pond.

"Can we really do this?" Luke asked, his voice shaky.

"Yes."

"How can you be so sure?"

Noah shrugged. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

They continued to hold tight, breathing in sync with each other.

"But what about your job? Don't you have to go back to Detroit?"

"Chicago."

Luke pushed back. "What?"

"Chicago. I told you Brett and I were expanding, right? I moved there three months ago. Plus, now I have a television studio to look after, so we'll just have to work something out."

"Wait, what?"

"For some crazy reason your mom left me WOAK."

Luke just laughed, which sounded like music to Noah. "Some crazy reason, you say?"

"No! You don't think…"

"What? That my mom still believed so strongly that we belong together that she's manipulating us from beyond the grave? Oh, I think it's entirely possible."

They laughed quietly as they held onto each other, sharing small tender kisses and reveling in their reunion.

"Noah?" Luke's lips spoke against his own.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think those stones are still rolling?"

Noah pulled back, looking deep into Luke's eyes and regarded the question for a second before answering with a smile.

"Yeah, but they're on the same path now."

**Author's Note:**

> First off, not only did I actually write something (OMG!) but this is the longest fic I've written in, oh, a decade! Thanks to my roommate/in house beta reader pollitt for keeping my POVs and other such trivial technicalities intact. Also, kudos to The BigBangers That Be who inspired me to up my own ante this year. Thanks to all of you who write, post, and do everything you can to keep this fandom's heartbeat alive—it's not fun to be a party of one.
> 
> Thanks to my artist jessnic85 for the **beautiful** wallpaper and album art! I love the colors, the snapshots from their lives apart and the lyrics—very cool! It goes perfectly with the story. Seriously, so much with the gorgeous!
> 
>  **Link to Art Master Post on Livejournal:** http://jessnic85.livejournal.com/47387.html


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